CUTS BOTH WAYS
by kuroren23
Summary: How does the Black Cat deal with the temptations of a song uttered by the lips of a little lost girl?


**Authors Note:**

Standard disclaimer applies. This anime/manga isn't mine. Set in the manga universe after the sporting event. If you haven't read that particular volume of the manga, I suggest you do. You wont regret it. For those that don't have the time, I am still hopeful that the story still make sense. Still working out the kinks in my mind. Please be indulgent. Comments, suggestions-violent or otherwise-highly appreciated.

* * *

**2/7/11**

Before you begin reading, some of you dear readers might recognize this as a story posted under the name "_**blackromance**_". Never fear—I didn't do anything so sordid as steal this tale—the name is just one of my older usernames. I created it when I was having—of all things—writers block.

It proved itself effective. It made me write again and now I will acknowledge that it's high time I give this tale its rightful due. I posted it back then with no revision and with hardly any concern for those who would take the time to read it. Like an itch that drove one mad with distraction and annoyance—I simply yielded and once that metaphorical "itch" was scratched I forgot all about it. Not really the best way to treat something I created myself.

This time around I will go slowly and carefully until the vision that haunted me so becomes fully formed inside your own fertile imaginations.

* * *

_**Natsume POV**_

_**He had to leave.**_

He allowed his weakness to take hold of him and now he KNOWS just as well the consequences for yielding to his annoying penchant for whimsy…for the slightest brush of humanity. He has been slipping…showing his feelings all too openly—revealing weaknesses that could only have him exploited and those he was desperate to protect directly into harm's way. He doesn't need or want a dead body to drop in front of him just to tell him how far he has regressed. The debacle between _that woman_ and _HER_ was enough. _No bodies were necessary_.

…_**And what did that little foray into people's lives prove except that unlike what he believes—he **__**IS**__** vulnerable. He made himself all too human…and all because of HER.**_

There wasn't anything waiting for him and now that things are settling towards whatever passes for normal inside the academy, there was no reason not to go on another mission. Nothing to hold him back. No concern to keep his mind from straying-no pending need to attend to.

_**He needs to get out**_.

He has tarried long enough. Time to wake up from his all-too-consuming fascination with normalcy. Not that he was ever normal and its only too obvious that if he tempted fate any further, there would be even bigger danger that could crawl out of the woodwork. It was high time he wake up and smell the acrid scent of bitter truth that has been his only reality ever since he came into the academy. Missions would bring his mind back into the right track. He needed the sharp edge of danger—the large dose of darkness that keeps his edge honed and ever present. His wayward mind needs the all-consuming dose of reality that the shadow world offered to him.

_**He has no place here**_.

He was as far from normal as could be. No amount of pretense or denial could fool him into believing the lie for very long. No sense fighting the inevitable. He needed the time away…time to reorganize his thoughts and get his control back. To replace the armor of indifference that was all that's standing between him and consuming madness and despair. For the first time in a long time he wasn't feeling the normal ambivalence that mission nights bring. For the first time in a very long time he was looking forward to the oblivion of shadow-living...the anonymity and danger of clandestine missions.

He winced when he recalled the events at the last Sport's Meet. He still couldn't fathom what made him do it. _Grabbing __**HER**__ hand and presenting her to the panel for one of the school celebrations idiotic events—what the hell was he thinking?_

He rubbed a hand across his face in aggravation. That's just the point-**_he wasn't_**. He got it bad, he knows that now. The most aggravating fact was that he knew exactly what he was thinking at the time.

_He missed her. He hurt her. And it made him just plain as mad as hell that he did that her._

The fact that after he chose to be mean to her after realizing the intention of that malevolent woman only proved too well just how much he has allowed Mikan Sakura to penetrate into his thoughts, his motivations—his world. He never realized until that very moment just how far her influence has reached—just how much she meant to his peace of mind. Even now…even here in the soothing, anonymous shadow that conceals him like a loving pair of arms he could recall the fear—the loneliness and anguish that assailed him at the notion of hurting her even more than he already had.

_He couldn't help what he did_. _It would've been far easier to stop breathing than watch those damnable amber eyes pool with tears._

He still could not understand how and why he did the act. He only did what he instinctively felt was right. That fortuitous presence of that white mask helped a whole damn lot though. Otherwise, he wasn't so sure he could have done what he did. He didn't want to think of what else he could've done if the mask hadn't been there. But as unnerving as it was…as aggravating…as annoying …as plain unnatural as it was for him to succumb in the end it was worth it.

_OH…man…the sheer reality of her nearly drove him to his knees…_

He never thought it was possible. Something no blow could, no punch or shot and she managed it with nary but a sigh and the faintest flutter of breath…For the feeling of having her close…Having her near him…as wrong as that was, as dangerous as the tell-tale act for both of them he couldn't find it in himself to regret it.

_It was moment paid with nothing more than courage. A moment he stole from time's very embrace. A moment where he allowed himself to be selfish and act, for once, like he was just another boy…just another person in need of forgiveness…of succor…of affection._

A faint sound behind him made him look up. He cast a look at the door of the classroom. They were holding class in one of the smaller auditoriums—another spur-of-the-moment madness declared by the flamboyant buffoon they call a teacher.

Slowly the filled with people…familiar voices…familiar faces…They gathered and moved around him like a warm, gentle tide…and he allowed himself to take in the unwitting sanctuary they offer for someone like him. These familiar people that unknowingly live pleasant lives because he chose to bleed and face death so that they could enjoy another day of peace. These simple, fragile, important people.

They were the reason he still played the game…the reason he would continue playing Persona's game for as long as it could buy them their freedom and their happiness. He would willingly pay ANY price if he could ensure their smiles never falter…never have a cause to fade…especially not _**hers**_.

He heard the faint rustling intensity then fall silent as his classmates and friends finally settled inside the tiny, intimate atmosphere of the auditorium. Glancing at the clock, he saw that he still had ten minutes left to spare. He decided to spend what little quiet time looking for a comfortable perch in the darkness. He could share in their joys for a little while more before he returns to the cold reality of his real world. He slid unobtrusively alongside one of the stone pillars and settled on an alcove nearly hidden from view by a heavy red drape. He swept an assessing look at the room and exchanged nods with Ruka who, as expected, was the only one who could keep track of his whereabouts. Few people realized that he was already inside and he was glad for it. He didn't want Narumi to make a big deal about his tardiness or his presence. He had had enough of attention to last him a few months.

* * *

_"Okay class! Today is interpretative performance day!"_

A loud groan echoed inside the room. Though a fair few looked eager, the majority of the boys wore a look of panicked and even scandalized horror.

_"What? What does that mean? Do you even know what that is Koko?"_

"_I didn't even know there was such a thing! Why are you asking me?"_

_"Oh Sensei!"_

_"That's just crazy! We're tired you know! We're still recovering from the hassle of that Sporting Event Sensei!"_

Natsume pursed his lips in annoyance and wondered if burning his insane teacher could count as an interpretative performance. It would certainly be an interpretation of his current feelings and he could make it flashy enough to be considered an actual performance.

"I wouldn't think about that if I were you. He won't be able to grade you if he's burned to a crisp."

A cool, laconic voice spoke behind him. Any other person would have been given a surprise finding their hiding hole so thoroughly breached but Natsume only cocked an eyebrow at the speaker and gave a small smirk.

"You know Imai, I think you're fairly psychic. You sure you don't belong to the Somatic side?"he drawled. He knows the dig about her classification couldn't be interpreted as anything but a direct reference to his best friend's fascination for the technical genius. The girl standing beside him merely blinked before answering him.

"Are you sure you don't belong to the Special Abilities? You seem to be all about vanishing acts and masking your presence. Some might even say, you're acting a little too much like them." came the staid reply.

Natsume resisted the urge to stick out his tongue at the stoic genius. Hotaru gave a small smile of her own and nodded towards the excited gaggle of girls.

"I'd bet you ten rabbit there's a whole gaggle of girls down there that's just dying to perform in front of you."

Natsume gave a delicate shudder at the image. He gritted his teeth and pulled out the manga he kept at his back pocket. He then leaned back against the stone alcove's curved niche and promptly buried his face into the pages and muttered in his usual annoyed growl.

"That's a sucker bet and you know it. This is stupid and if I knew this was the lesson, I would've stayed at the dorm."

Ruka cleared his throat and finally had to make his presence known as well. Natsume grinned when he realized that Ruka deliberately kept quiet so that he could steal surreptitious glances at Hotaru whenever he thinks she wasn't looking. He tapped Ruka's shoulder and waited for the question that he knew would be forthcoming.

"Are you feeling alright Natsume?"

He opened his lips to reply but before he could set Ruka's mind at ease, Imai replied dryly.

"I think Hyuuga is fine. He was dashing all over the place during the Sporting Meet. He must be in excellent health, right Hyuuga?"

He removed the manga covering his face with slow, deliberate grace that could only hint at the level of control he was exerting not to give vent and chuck it a the oblivious, sarcastic tech-genius pinning him with a knowing look. He leveled a scorching look at the girl but like always Hotaru Imai proved immune to the very real threat he exuded. He wondered briefly if Ruka wouldn't mind a half-burnt girl for a girlfriend and consoled himself with a toothy, mocking grin instead.

"I'm perfect that way. But then again, that's something you can only envy from afar, right, Imai?"

They continued to stare at one another, failing to hear what the rest of the class was doing until the lights grew dim and Narumi announced that there was a first volunteer.

_**It cuts both ways**_

_**Our love is like knife**_

_**It cuts both ways…**_

The voice that cut through the gloom was soft…hesitant and painfully earnest. Natsume wondered who they managed to coerce to sing for their impromptu performance and why the idiot even gave in. The words sounded odd though…almost like someone stating a fact even while using unusual images

…_Knives huh…who sings about knives?_

The thought brought a reluctant smile to his face. Just another weird love song from one of the love struck girls.

_What would they think of next? Only hormone driven females could think of knives as romantic. Them or a suicidal sociopath._

_**It's driven deep into my heart each time**_

_**That I realize**_

_**How it cuts both ways…**_

The honesty in the lines made him pause. There was something about the way the words are strung together that tugged at him. He cast a look around the room and noticed that almost everyone was holding their breath, curious to find out who their mystery singer was. As per some agreement, the volunteer must have stipulated that they would participate provided they could sing behind the thick curtains that hid the inner recesses of the small stage. Though the voice was obviously feminine, by singing a foreign song, it made determining exactly who it was slightly challenging.

_**Can't be together… cannot live apart**_

_**We're heading straight into a broken heart**_

_**But I can't stop…**_

This time the words made him pause. He recalls saying something very similar once before…to a certain someone just once—a long time ago. A swift assessing glance at the audience confirmed his suspicion and the gnawing frisson of awareness and realization that he was afraid to acknowledge. He knows that Ruka realized something was wrong but he was too preoccupied to come up with a credible excuse. The tension gripping his body could be felt by someone with the slightest modicum of sense—for someone of Ruka's particular sensitivity, his demeanor must be akin to a blazing red flag. He felt the warm, alarmed gaze sweep over him but he wasn't in the proper frame of mind to reassure his best friend.

_**'Cause I feel too much to let you go…**_

_**I'm hurting you and it's hard I know-**_

_**To stay and fight for what we've got**_

_**Knowing it'll never be good enough…**_

He frowned. For some reason the lyrics of this impromptu circus that Narumi created was calling to him. It was like the singer was reading the thoughts that raced through his mind just moments ago. He waited impatiently for the lights to go on and when it did, he caught his breath. The curtain didn't lift but he would know that particular silhouette any given day.

_**'Cause you and I are dangerous**_

_**We want too much and life ain't that way**_

_**Don't ask for more…**_

_**You'd be a fool**_

_**Haven't we already broken every rule?**_

He felt more than heard the rustle of excitement around him but nothing could've drawn his gaze. Persona himself could park his psychotic ass beside him wearing a pink tutu and he wouldn't look. His entire focus was on the small figure standing in just behind the now back-lit curtain of the stage, steady and still like a statue. His eyes felt drawn to the singer's form, his imagination erasing the concealing fabric and revealing features etched into the very depths of his mind. This time the words reverberated even more intensely inside him.

_Yes, they've broken too many rules already. Far too many it would seem…He was constantly breaking them…for her…because of her…He has broken a lot of rules—his personal ones most of all and all because of her…because of how she made him feel…made him see and think…he cast away a lifetime of learned laws when she made him see how empty the life he has lived until the moment she came into his life…._

_**It cuts both ways, we're in too deep for sorry alibis**_

_**Can't have regrets or even question why**_

_**We can't say goodbye**_

_**Because it cuts both ways**_

He wanted to leave. He wanted to stay. He wanted too many things—unknown, unrealized things. He wanted to open his lips and issue the denial that he felt was ready to spring from his lips but somehow he couldn't move and the words wouldn't come. He stared at her and noticed that if he moved , he could see her standing just beyond the curtain. He could see her…

_**No more illusions of the love we make**_

_**No sacrifice would ever be too great**_

_**If you would just stay**_

The curtain, he realized, hid the fact that she wasn't facing forward but rather, she had been looking at him. Looking and watching him ever since she began singing. Her gaze never faltered, never moved from his and when their gaze finally met, she held his with an passion he has never known. He realized belatedly that she was holding back tears by sheer will. The image made him want to spring towards her side, and his lips parted as if to speak and once more all he had was silence.

_'Cause I feel too much to let you go_

_I'm hurting you and it's hard I know_

_To stay and fight for what we've got_

_**Knowing it'll never be good enough**_

He knew the hunger in his gaze pierced her and his knuckles whitened in tension from holding himself back. When he saw her hands lift to clutch the edge of her uniform it was all he could do not to launch himself from his perch to reach her side. But he resisted. He held himself back and forced himself to stay still. He realized that he was giving out way too much hints that he was being affected by her song but he couldn't control his reaction anymore than he could do more than keep his hands close to his side to hide his clenching fist and grit his teeth. He knows what she is offering and he knows that he couldn't accept it.

_Not even he had that much courage. He couldn't tempt fate. He might never recover if something happens to her. He knows no greater fear than the stark madness that would consume his very soul if she found harm because of him._

_**'Cause you and I are dangerous**_

_**We want too much and life ain't that way**_

_**Don't ask for more**_

_**Don't be a fool**_

_**Haven't we already broken every rule?**_

He closed his eyes. _**He had to**_. Otherwise he might do something that he would later regret. He closed his eyes because he knows that if he keeps looking her he would give up the fight and he would succumb to the plea she was issuing. He kept his fist tightly closed—knowing even now his arms hungered for another fleeting embrace—even the faintest illusion of it tempted him beyond all imagining.

_**He couldn't give in. He had to protect her—more than anything else in his world, more than anything he should consider, he needed to protect her from himself. **_

He bit his lips until his brain informed him of the faintest pinprick of pain and the coppery tang of blood coating his tongue. He felt the blessed relief of control flood back into his system. He drew a deep breath and slowly forced his eyes open.

_**Cuts both ways**_

_**Our love is like a knife that cuts both ways**_

_**It's drivin' deep into my heart each time I see we're livin' a lie**_

He stood up. He heard Ruka's attempt to keep him but for once he ignored the plea in his best friend's voice. He felt Imai's stare and even _**that **_he was loathe to acknowledge. He closed the door behind him and leaned back against it wearily. He took one deep shuddering breath and then turned and started walking away. And as he walked away from the door towards the awaiting darkness of his next mission he caught the last lingering lines from her song and felt the words wrap around him like a last, lonely caress.

_**And it cuts both ways**_

_**It cuts both ways, mmm**_

_**Cuts both ways**_

_**Cuts both ways**_

He didn't look back. He was the Black Cat. He wouldn't look back. At least…not yet….


End file.
